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Rated: E · Fiction · Emotional · #1999552
A childhood memory
She came home to an empty house every day. Often she would stop at the local library to pick up a new book before continuing on home. But mainly to just to put in time. Especially in the winter.

Coming home in the winter was the worst. The house would be frozen inside. It was her job to light the monster gas heater in the living room. It was the only source of heat for the house. To save money it was turned off when they all left in the morning.

Sitting on a tiny stool, still in her winter clothes, beside the hated heater she would get out the box of watches and wait until she felt brave enough to do her job.

Her father had given her strict instructions: First you turn on the gas. Make sure you hear the whoosh of the gas. Then Quickly light the match and stick it in the hole. Quickly. Too much gas and there would be a big explosion.

Oh how she feared that there might be a big explosion. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.

Sometimes the match would go out before she got it into the hole. So the whole process would have to be started and done again.

Finally after 2 or 3 attempts there would be a little boom and the terrifying heater would be on. A feeling of relief.

Still she would sit on the little stool beside the heater, reading her new library book. Finaĺly she would be warm enough to take off her winter clothes and do her other chores before her parents came home.

Tomorrow she would tackle the monster heater again.




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